3RD PERSON The rapid firing of guns continues. For him, it sounds like a rain of bullets. He can’t even hear his own screams. He stays where he is, crouched under the table with hands covering his ears. He wants to go out, to check on them. But for a boy of seven, what can he do? He can feel his knees trembling and his heart beating fast. He’s praying for their safety. Praying that it will finally stop. And then the shots died down. He heard two little girls crying and he calmed down a bit. He slowly moves out of his hiding place, taking a peak. But the scene before him made his heart stop and his feet rooted on the spot. He saw his mother lying grotesquely on the floor, bathing with her own blood, noticeably dead. His father, badly wounded, embracing his two younger sisters. And a man, a man, he can’t hardly see the face as tears welled up on his eyes, pointing a gun to them. To the remaining members of h
Last Updated : 2021-09-14
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